Stay The Course
by CrzyCndn
Summary: Three words meant to stay on the path. Three words to end it all.


**This is just my theory of why Dante Wallace went from wanting to free the kids of the Ark to his actions in the last two episodes of the second season.**

 **I may be completely off the mark but it was a thought that sprung into my head and decided to take root. Hope you enjoy.**

* * *

I hear the door close and stand for a minute in disbelief. I knew my son was ruthless, he had proved it true many times, but I didn't think he would actually plan a coup and overthrow me. I should have seen it coming though with how much he had pushed to use the kids, how he wouldn't let it go even after I told him to. It should have been obvious with his obsessions of control and of reaching the ground. It was naïve of me to think that his need for my approval would be enough to keep him in place.

But I had been very naïve: naïve of what my son was truly capable of and of how far gone he already was. One does not want to think badly of their children though, even with a great amount of evidence to the contrary. As a parent, you always hold out hope that your child can change with the right guidance, that there is still a goodness in them that can be reached with the right words or actions. You don't want to admit that it is too late because that means that you have failed them, and admitting that you have failed is one of the hardest things to do.

So now I stand here; a prisoner, locked inside one of the quarantine rooms and unable to stop Cage from going too far. I am unable to prevent him from slaughtering those kids and losing his soul, all because I was too proud to admit that I had failed him. Because I had been too naïve to see what he and everyone else seems to be willing to do in order to get out of this mountain.

Those kids are going to be butchered, and for what? To breathe outside air? To see the ground without a plastic barrier before their eyes? To feel the earth underneath their fingertips? To smell the scent of a freshly picked flower?

The longing I feel for all those things is so immense but I don't believe that those pleasures are worth the lives of children. I don't believe that we will deserve to experience those pleasures if the lives of those kids are the cost. We have already done such horrible things to the savages in the name of survival; countless lives that have already been taken so that we could live. There will be no coming back from it if Cage does as he wishes. These kids aren't the savages that we have drained for years, they are children who have already been sacrificed once and they do not deserve to be sacrificed again now, for us, because they survived.

With all my might I try to think of a way to get through to him but I only come up empty. I fear that I am already too late. A part of me knows that I am while another part still clings desperately to some small hope that there is still a piece of humanity left in Cage. I pray for a sign that there is still some good in him that can found and brought to the surface.

For now though, there is nothing I can do while locked in this white room. My thoughts turn and leap and spiral about in my head and I can imagine the desperation Clarke must have felt waking up alone in this room. I hadn't been able to understand her mistrust of us at first; it seems now though that she had sensed the cruelty that we were capable of behind the show of cake and kindness. She must have sensed the truth of us and guessed what was coming. She had been smart to run when she had. At least she will be spared what is to come.

If only she had taken the others with her. If only she had found a way to get them all out the same time she had set herself free. But I know that it never would have happened and it is foolish of me to spend time thinking about what could have been. Clarke was the only one to mistrust us; the others probably would not have followed her even though they see her as their leader. We had them fooled as completely as I had been fooled, and now they were going to pay the price for their trust.

I grow weary from all the thoughts in my head and I slowly make my way to the bed and sit down on the end of it. I prop my elbows on my knees and lower my head into my hands. A small part of me wants to weep for what has been done and what I know will happen but tears will not help anything. I need to find a way to stop Cage and Dr. Tsing from carrying on with their plans.

Perhaps I can talk to those in the Mountain who are not fond of what we have done to stay alive. There are many who are against using the savages' blood and who routinely refuse treatments. But what can they really do against Cage and his guards? And how would I even be able to get word to them or speak to them? Cage would never allow it.

I spend a great amount of time trying to come with one plan or another but they all end up being too flawed and no use. It seems impossible to stop what is going to transpire but I tell myself not to give up; that I just need to keep my eyes and ears and mind open and perhaps something will happen to give me a chance.

The door opens before me and I immediately lift my head from my hands. I watch as a guard enters the room with my easel and places it in the corner. He is followed by another who carries a couple canvases and some of my other supplies. A third enters carrying my brushes and paints and I know that my son is cleaning out my office and making it his like he has always wanted.

After the last guard leaves and the door closes once again I am left feeling even more disappointed than I had before. When the door first opened I had a small spark of hope that it would be Cage coming to apologize for his behavior and wanting forgiveness for his actions. But with my painting supplies being delivered to this cell I knew that he would not be changing his mind. This was going to become my new home until the day that all those children had been butchered and their blood marrow drained and transfused into my people.

Cage was trying to make this stark room a little more habitable but I could have told not to bother. Looking at the empty canvas waiting to be painted, I knew it would remain that way. I did not deserve to lose myself in my painting, to find that peace again.

It is also while looking at some of my possessions from my office that I think about the last time I had been in my office: when Jasper had held the point of my own sword against my throat, wanting to see his friends. I never would have guessed that when I walked out through that door today that it was going to be the last time that I ever stepped foot in that room. I could very well have been happy with that if only things had turned out differently. If only I had gone with Jasper and Monty and Harper and let all those kids go before I went to confront my son. I would be able to happily live out my last days here if I knew they were free.

But that had not happened and now I don't know where those kids are or if they are already being strapped to tables and holes being drilled into their bodies. If only I had gotten them out sooner. But if I really think about it I know that I probably wouldn't have succeeded. Sure the guards took Dr. Tsing into custody as I had asked, but letting their tickets to the outside world go? I would be a fool to think they would have allowed it. Most of the people in this mountain thought along the same lines as my son, the only difference being that they didn't have to get their hands dirty. Though if it came down to it, I know most of them, just as Cage was, would do whatever it took to get to the ground.

It's a sad day when you realize that not only your son, but most of the people you have been fighting for and trying to keep alive for so many years, are a group of people that you feel should no longer be allowed to keep living. It seems odd now, that we called the Grounders savages. We saw how quick they were to kill one another and we thought that we were better than them; that we were more civilized because we would not kill our own. How foolish we were to think that, when what we did to them and what we will do to the kids is far more horrible. They may be savages, but we are something far worse.

* * *

I decide to put on a record in the hopes that the music might be able to distract me from the thoughts that continually circle through my mind. It seems pointless and rather hopeless to carry on thinking about what I could have done or what I might be able to do when I am locked inside this room. There is nothing I can do from in here and I will end up driving myself crazy if I continue thinking as I have been. I need to start being realistic about what will eventually unfold.

The music helps some to take my mind off my current situation by bringing up memories of better times. I think back to when I was just a child, before my father opened the doors for the first time, when my life was carefree. I remember going to class and playing with friends and laughing. Of course I was still being groomed by my father even then to one day become president, but I still remember being happy.

Things, of course, changed once the doors had been opened and people had started dying. How could they not? But despite the changes that occurred and the different ways we had to start living, there were still good times that were had. Like the day I had realized that I had fallen in love with the woman who would become my wife and Cage's mother.

One thought of her brings a cascade of memories to mind and it feels like only yesterday she left us. She had been my rock, my conscience, my teacher and my heart. She was the one to show me that what we were doing to survive wasn't right. She was the one who told me time and again that we were responsible for what we left behind and that we weren't going to deserve to ever see the ground if we did not get off the path that we were on. If only Cage had gotten more of her ideals than my fathers.

I remember the nights we used to talk together, before I became president. We would bribe the guards to let us into the control room and we would watch the world outside through the cameras. We would talk about all the things we would do and see if we ever had a chance on the ground again. I remember that she would always say that first thing she would do was smell a flower. She would prefer it to be a rose, but she said the first flower she came across would do. It was supposed to be the two of us, together.

I am brought back to the present when I feel a cold wetness on the side of my cheek and realize that I am crying. I wipe the tears away and try to regain my composure. This is no time to start feeling weak. I need to stay strong and keep my mind sharp if I want to have any hope of changing things.

The record has stopped playing and I make my way over and change it with another, hoping that the notes from the piano will calm me. I go to make my way back to the bed when my sight falls on the painting that they hung on the wall of this stark white room: the yellow stars and moon shining amidst the swirls of blue over a peaceful town. It was her favorite painting, she always said it soothed her when she got upset and made her believe and hope in a better future. I had loved it because she had loved it.

Looking at it now though was hard. It had been hard to look at it the same way ever since the day I had found her lying before it in a pool of her own blood. To this day I still can't understand how she could have killed herself in front of the very image that she said gave her hope. Many people thought I was mad for not putting the painting in storage but I couldn't do it. The painting, as hard as it was for me to look at, always made me think of her and all the things she had hoped for me and all of our people.

Staring at it now reminds me of how much she had fought against using the outsiders' blood and how she wanted us not to become like the vampires that we had read about in books. She had believed there was another way, a better way, but I hadn't listened to her. I could only think about keeping everyone alive and I couldn't see any other way to ensure that. My son unfortunately had the same narrow mind that I did.

I had tried to change over the years and I thought that she would have been proud of me with my decision to try and integrate the children from the Ark into our population. It was an idea that she had put out many years ago that had been quickly dismissed. I had thought that by doing what she had wanted now, that I might be able to make up for everything else I had done before. But I had messed that up too.

Seeing the peaceful night depicted in the painting before me brings such an ache to my heart because I know that that is all she had ever wanted and she never got to see it. She never got to have her starry night and I know now that I will never get one either. The truth is I no longer want one. The only person who deserved to have that peace had died long ago and it breaks my heart to know that her worst fears for us are coming true and it's all because of me and what I had let our son become.

I can feel my composure starting to slip again when the door to my room opens and a young man I have never seen before steps inside. He is wearing a guard's uniform and is holding a tray of food. I am shocked to see him and immediately my mind starts to work through the possibilities. When he calls me President Wallace I know right away that I have an ally and that there may be a chance to make things right. It also tells me that Clarke is coming back for her people and she is obviously not to be underestimated.

I walk over and turn up the volume on the record player just in case someone is actually paying attention and watching me. I try to gain some information about him and who might be helping him. I like to have as much information as I can about the situation because the more I know, the better I will be able to plan. His distrust for me is easily read and it reminds me of Clarke. If any of the plans that have been formulating in my mind are going to work his mistrust of others will be beneficial but I will need him to trust me.

I try not to think about the fact that my son has already started killing those kids as I tell him how things had changed since Clarke escaped to try and gain that trust but also in an attempt to get some kind of confirmation that Clarke is the one behind his presence here. I also try to make his planned attempt to free his friends sound as impossible as I can to see how determined he is and if he will be willing to do what it takes to get them out.

He doesn't give me the confirmation about Clarke that I was hoping for but my instincts tell me that she is behind it. He does show his fortitude and his conviction however when he says that he won't let his friends die in this mountain. I tell him that I can't help him and his friends escape because that is the truth. I am not able to help them escape and I don't want them to. I have come to fully realize that even if I could get those kids out of this mountain I would only be delaying the inevitable. Cage and everyone in this mountain would not stop trying to capture them again so that they could finally reach the ground. In order for this to end once and for all, Clarke and the others outside had to come for their people.

I can tell the young man is disappointed with my answer as he starts to walk away. Before he can make it to the door though, I am able to stop him by saying that I can help him buy his friends some time. He turns back around and I lay out a plan for him to irradiate Level 5 where his friends are being held so that they won't have a chance to be taken for a while. When he tells me how often Dr. Tsing returns for someone new, we plan to time it when she is there. I am hoping that she hasn't treated herself yet and if that is the case I will be able to make good on my words. I can still remember the fire in her eyes when she screamed that I couldn't keep her from her birthright and the shock when I replied, "Watch me!"

The young man then leaves to carry out the plan and I turn the record player off. I again turn to the painting on the wall and take it in one more time. I let the feelings that arise in me while I gaze at it wash over me, allowing myself to once again remember her and all that she wanted for us and for me. I then walk towards the painting and remove it from the wall and carry it to the corner and place it on the ground. I then take a spare sheet from my bed and hang it over the painting knowing that I cannot allow myself any further distractions; that I cannot allow myself to dwell in the past.

With that task done I make my over to the bed and I sit down to think. This plan will give Jasper and the others time to live but it will also provide me with the time I need to perfect the plan that has been forming in my mind since the young man walked into this room. I start to visualize in my mind the outcome that I want and work backwards through the steps that will ensure me of that outcome. I think of as many things that could possibly go wrong and cause my plan to fail and then I think of what steps need to be taken to remove those possibilities from the equation.

I work through the plan again and again, making changes here and there where it is needed. I picture it like a chess game that consists of moves and counter-moves, trying my best to guess what my opponent may do and how to effectively use the pieces at my disposal. I think and I plan over and over, all the while waiting to hear the sound that the first stage of the plan has started.

It is some time later when the sounds of the alarms break me from my thoughts and I know that the young man was successful. I check the time and know that if Dr. Tsing had gone to get one of the kids on schedule like the boy had said, that she would be there now and I take a perverse pleasure in imagining the pain she will feel as the radiation eats away at her body. The pain that she will ultimately feel will not be the same as the pain she has been responsible for but it will come close. She will get exactly what she deserved and I am glad to know that I was the cause of it.

I then wait for the visit that I know will come. My son may be a very cruel human being but he is also smart. He will have figured out that I had something to do with an entire level being irradiated, especially the floor where the kids were being held.

Cage does not disappoint when he enters my room a short while later. I pretend to be reading a book as he comes in and try to pretend ignorance when he accuses me. I gain another piece and an advantage on my chess board when I realize that he is unaware of the presence of the young man. He thinks that I convinced one of our own people to irradiate Level 5 and I believe I will be able to use that in my favor.

It is when Cage is yelling at me, questioning why I would do such a thing, that I know he is far too gone to be saved. I think there was still a small part of me that had been foolishly hoping otherwise but that part is now gone. I no longer seem to recognize my own child and I try to get him to leave but he sits in my chair instead. When he tells me that he bombed Ton DC I am sent into momentary shock.

I am shocked that he would do such a thing; that he was capable of such a thing. That he used something that was created for protection to destroy what must have been hundreds of lives. I am also disheartened because I am unsure if my plans will still be able to come to fruition. The young man seems to be very capable but I don't know if he will have what it takes to do what needs to be done in the end like I am sure Clarke would be able to.

Cage keeps speaking and the more he speaks the more disappointed in him I get. I can feel it bubbling beneath my skin and soon it is boiling out and I am yelling at him. I had hoped to stop him before he had completely lost his soul but I am too late.

Before I have time to really think about everything he has told me, guards are in my room and holding me down as another man pushes the bone marrow of one of the kids inside me. As the guards and my son leave the room and the door closes leaving me alone once again it seems like I can actually feel the bone marrow moving through my veins. As the time passes I feel as though I am getting stronger and the stronger I seem the dirtier I feel. One of those kids is lying dead somewhere and their essence is moving inside me. I have never felt like more of a failure as I do now and it makes me vow that much more to set things right. Cage had claimed that he was freeing me and that I would thank him one day, little did he know that what he had just done would make me work that much harder to see him stopped.

* * *

I am interrupted from my musings and thoughts when I hear Cage's voice echo through the speakers. A part of me is shocked by the words he is saying, calling the kids murderers like he does not have blood on his own hands. His voice is calm and assured but I can tell that he is desperate. He does not have the kids and for him to go public with his plea for them tells me that he is running out of time. Things outside the mountain must be coming to a head if he is telling everyone there is a cure. It must mean that Clarke is coming. I can only hope that it means Clarke is coming.

And while a part of me is shocked by the things he says another part of me is not shocked in the least. My son may not be a man filled with compassion or mercy and he is definitely not the good man that I hoped he would become, but I am very aware that he is very good at manipulating people. He is smart to play at the weaknesses of those in this mountain; to pull at their greed and their selfishness. He must know that while some do not like the idea of bleeding others to continue surviving within this tomb, that many of those would willingly push aside their morality to live freely on the ground.

I know there will still be some who see things as I do, and who will stay resolute in their choices to protect the kids. For those people I am truly honored to have known them and I am pleased that not everyone will be or can be so easily corrupted, but I am saddened that they too will have to pay the price with everyone else. But in the end, none of us are innocent.

I realize now that while time seems to be running out for Cage, it is also running out for me and all those kids. I wonder how many more of them will die needlessly before it finally ends. I try to remember every one of the kids that we brought in; I try to picture each one in my mind and recall their names. Some come easily, like Jasper and Monty, while others have already become ghosts in my head with only a shimmer of recognition. I wonder which of them have already succumbed to this mountain and who might still be hoping to walk away from it.

Thinking about the kids and the endless Grounders that came before them brings a heavy weight of guilt and shame down upon my shoulders. I can feel it push me down into an unseen abyss and I imagine the hands of the dead reaching up to pull me in farther.

I had tried to stop things from going this far because I didn't want our legacy to be corrupted any further than it already had been. I had failed in that quest for the time being but I still had hope that I would be able to stop Cage before irreversible damage could be done. I remember my wife telling me an old proverb she had read once and it seemed to me now like she had known that I would need it one day. It said, "The reputation of a thousand years may be determined by the conduct of one hour." I knew that hour was quickly approaching, I only hoped that I would be able to make things right.

* * *

I am sitting on the couch going over the endless possibilities and outcomes for today when the door to my room opens and Cage walks in carrying a tray of food and I know immediately that he has come to ask for my help. The fact that he so arrogantly threw me from my own office and the way he now returns to me, about to beg for my help, brings an uncontrollable anger to rise in me. The way he tries to placate me with my favorite dish, the way he tries to show concern for my health after locking me in this room only makes that anger grow hotter.

In an attempt to curb the anger growing in me I cut right to the chase, asking him how bad things have become. With each new thing he tells me however I feel the anger and resentment grow stronger and hotter. Knowing that an army is waiting and that they have found our weaknesses and are about to take advantage of them makes me realize that our life within this mountain is about to be over. The fact that my son has made the choices and the decisions that lead to the events about to transpire makes my emotions and anger boil to the surface where I am barely able to keep them in. When he shows his ignorance of who was really responsible for the army getting as far as they have, my anger finally boils over and I am yelling at him. I can't help but throw everything he has done wrong in his face, showing my utmost disappointment in him.

I am a little surprised when he still asks for my help; he must be very desperate indeed. I stand up and take a few steps away from him, taking a few moments to regain my composer and collect my thoughts. Things need to be done in the right way from here on out for my intended outcome to occur. I think of the best ways for it to happen and then about what might happen to prevent them. My mind is racing as I play out the steps in my head.

Cage tries to guilt me by saying that my people need my help and I realize that I have him right where I need him. I turn away from him and listen as he rises from the bed behind me. He tells me that they will destroy everything and when I turn I see he has lifted the sheet from the painting. He knows what that painting means to me and he tries to use it to change my mind. When I tell him that he has already done just that I mean it and there is pain that rips through my chest in having to admit that.

When he finally goes to leave I wait until he is almost at the door before I call out to him. I have to make him believe that he finally got to me and that I am going to help him for our people. I carefully pick my words when I tell him my plan so that he will believe with certainty that I have our best interest in mind and so that he will not question what I tell him to do. It turns out to be rather easy to convince him to send someone to intercept the Commander and make a deal with her: if we free her people, whom we no longer need according to my son, then they will agree to leave and stay away. I am sure in my son's head that was the perfect idea as he would get to keep the kids and cure us and we wouldn't have to worry about the others trying to get revenge. My only hope was that he forgot my earlier outburst and continues to underestimate what Clarke was capable of.

So with a plan in mind Cage left to make it happen and I was once again alone in my room. I start pacing from one end of the small enclosure to the other, my thoughts constantly swirling about in my head. I continue pacing, back and forth, back and forth. I am not sure how much time passes as I walk but then all of a sudden the power goes out in my room. They have blown the generators in the dam and now the clock starts to count down.

I find my way along the side of the bed in the dark and sit down on the ground beside it with my back against the wall and do the only thing I can do now, and that is wait. The lights come back on within the minute but I stay where I am. I can only wait now and hope that Clarke will not let me or her people down.

I am not sure how much time has passed when Cage reenters my room. He tells me that the plan worked and that the Commander and her people are gone. He tells me that we have won and I try one last time to get him to change his course. I tell him how those from the Ark will not stop trying to save their children, that no parent ever would just like I was still trying, but when he tells me that he is sending a team out to bring them back to use them I know it is no use. I cannot help it as I drop my head and shake it at how proud my son is of the monster he has become.

He invites me to join them when he leaves the room and leaves the door open behind him as he goes but there is no way I will be able to join them, not with what needs to be done. I look again to the painting beside me, unwilling to cover it up again. As though she might be looking at me through the painting, I try to tell her that I am sorry I failed her; that I failed us both in regards to our son. I try to seek the forgiveness that I know I don't deserve and then I try to draw strength from her, to end things once and for all.

* * *

Sitting still for too long makes me far too anxious so I make my way down to the storage area and start bringing paintings back to my room. I know that I will die today, one way or another, and I wanted to spend my last hours or minutes appreciating things of beauty one last time. I make trip after trip and hang the paintings on the wall wherever I can find room for them and I only stop to rest once the walls are sufficiently full.

I look from one painting to the next admiring the colors and the brush strokes and the visions that the artists created. I look for the beauty and the goodness in each one of them before I look to the next.

I am sitting on my bed staring at a painting of the ground, a picture of a place that I will never get to experience fully in person, when the sound of people entering through my doorway breaks me from my thoughts. I try to hide my look of triumph when I see Clarke standing in between Monty and the other young man. With her here and the look of distrust and distaste that she has for me, I know that my chances are good of my plan working.

My hopes fall just slightly when the young man speaks about trying to get their people out and leaving everyone else alive. He doesn't realize that it would never stop with any of us still alive. They would still be in danger because their blood would get my people to the ground. Clarke is right when she states that I won't help them because I won't help them save everyone. It helps as well that she believes that I don't want to help them; if any of them know what I am trying to do they will try to find another way. To me though, there is no other way, not anymore.

In order to ensure that she will do what needs to be done I confront Clarke and try to make it look like I see her as the bad guy in this situation. I try to provoke her and see if she still has the fire within her that will be needed before the day is done. She does not disappoint when she fires back at me, telling me how she is the good one, trying to keep people alive. I fire right back, questioning her on what would have happened to my people if we let everyone go. She is unable to respond then because she knows that we would all eventually die without the blood. What she doesn't realize though is that Cage would find a way to come after them again, one by one if need be.

As we make our way to the command center I realize that I am going to be asking a lot of Clarke. She is still just a young woman and she is not used to having the weight of an entire people on her shoulders. It makes me unsure whether or not she will be able to make the choices I need her to make, so when she asks me why I am not with my people I reply that I cannot be free after what I have done but my people can. I hope she understands somewhere deep down, what I am asking from her. I hope that she understands that if she wants her people to be free, she may have to give up her freedom to do it; that that is what a leader does.

I tell her that deliverance comes at a cost, and I know that it will cost her greatly but I need her to pay it. I then tell her that I bear it so they don't have to. I am hoping those words will sink into her subconscious and she will be able to make the choice to save her people even though the weight she will have to bear to do it will be immeasurable. I take some reassurance that it is working as I watch her think over my words.

It is when the young man states that it wasn't Cage but me whose idea it was to make the deal with the Grounders that I realize that I had underestimated him in a way. He always seemed more of the brute force type than a thinker and it makes me hopeful for what these kids may be able to achieve if they are able to get free.

We enter the command center and Monty quickly gets the computers and the cameras up and running. The image of a young woman strapped to a table and being drilled into shows up on one of the monitors and it makes me instantly sick to see what is being done to them. The young man calls her Raven and I can tell both he and Clarke are consumed with fear for their friend. And that's when Clarke sees her mother and I hear the anguish in her voice and that's when I know what I have to do.

The young man thrusts a walkie talkie in my face and orders me to tell them to stop what they are doing but I refuse. I need them, but especially Clarke to be beyond desperate when the moment of truth comes. Desperation makes people do things they normally wouldn't do as I saw with Jasper when he threatened me with my own sword. I was counting on that to happen again now. It needed to happen again now.

I watch as Clarke gets my son on the radio and listen as she tells him that she will kill me unless he lets all her people go free. He asks for proof that she is telling the truth, that she has me here with her and I quickly think of the right words to say to him so that everything will unfold as I have planned. I want this course that my son is on to be over and so I say the words that I am sure will bring that about. I tell him to stay the course knowing that it will bring all of this to an end. I tell him to stay the course hoping to give him the validation he so desperately craved from me, to give him one last thing before I took it all away.

I watch as Clarke looks unsure about what to do and I try to bring her back around to what she wants. I tell her it would mean the end of our people hoping that she will make the connection that Cage is willing to end her people for ours to live and that she had to make the same choice. When she points the gun at me the young man tries to talk her down by telling her that they need me and when she says that she needs Cage to believe her, I see the conviction in her eyes and I know she will do what needs to be done.

She tries once again to get through to my son but I know it is a waste of time. He probably wouldn't have changed his mind before but after I said those words to him I know he will choose to sacrifice me. When I hear him tell me that he will take care of our people I know that it is time. I tell her that none of us has a choice because I need her to believe that this is the only way and in a way it is true. I have made it so that my son feels like he has no choice but to let me die and continue harvesting those from the Ark. I feel like I have no choice but to take my people to the grave in order to save what is left of their souls. And I have made the situation just so, so that Clarke will feel like she has no choice but to kill us all in order to save her friends and family. Each of us is making the decision to save the people we care about but each in different ways.

Clarke looks at me with eyes full of regret and tells me that she didn't want this and as I reply to her, telling her that I didn't want this either, the gun goes off and there is a sharp pain ripping through my chest. I see the pain in Clarke's eyes upon knowing that she has killed me and I feel momentarily bad for the amount of pain that she will have to endure. She will have a lot of blood on her hands before this day is done but it had to be done. She may not be able to understand my decision; she will probably never know that this was my doing, but we all had blood on our hands: the Grounders, the Arkers, and those of us from the mountain. The only difference was, all of us in the mountain did not just have the blood of others on our hands but it was also flowing through our veins. We were the least worthy of us all to survive.

I fall to the floor as pain spreads through my body and blood pours from my chest. This is my fate and the only thing I deserve after all that I have done in my life. The innocent blood within me that has been tainted by my own yearns to escape its unworthy host and pools on the floor around me. I can only hope that my last actions can make up for some of the things that I have been responsible for; that my conduct of this last hour will make up for our behavior for the last 97 years.

As I feel the last threads of life slipping from my grasp I know what will happen now. I know how Cage will respond to having his parent taken from him and I know how Clarke will react to having her mother threatened. The desperation was clear in her eyes and I have left her no other choices if she wants to leave this place with her people alive.

It will soon be done. It will soon be over. This place that some have referred to as the Underworld will soon live up to its name and become the land of the dead and with my last breath I breathe out knowing that it has been done.

* * *

 **Thank you all for reading this. Like I said at the beginning, this was just a thought that popped into my head, mostly because I didn't like seeing him as a bad guy at the end.**

 **Thanks again for your time and I hope you enjoyed it.**


End file.
